But every time she scanned the room, she found no one else there.
*Maybe I'm just imagining things,* she thought.
One weekend, she went to the wellness center for her physical therapy session as usual. It had been nearly a year of on-and-off treatment, and the results were incredible. Because her injury hadn't involved a loss of bone, the therapy was effective. She couldn't yet return to her peak performance level, but she could walk without a noticeable limp, and she could dance as long as she avoided highly demanding movements.
Sebastian went with her, as always. The staff at the center were all familiar faces now. The first group of medical professionals her brother had hired at great expense had been offered contracts that allowed them to leave anytime if they weren't comfortable. But they had all stayed and were planning to renew.
As she entered, she noticed a spread of desserts on the large table in the waiting area. The center had been providing treats lately—sometimes cookies, sometimes small cakes. She'd even seen shortbread, macarons, and some intricate European pastries. She assumed one of the young women on staff had a baking hobby. They were delicious.
Today, among the plates, were pineapple tarts. They were a favorite of hers, and she helped herself to several.
After her session, she headed to the university studio for an afternoon of intense rehearsal. As they were packing up, she saw her students changing and snacking on the same pineapple tarts.
"Those tarts..." Emma began, thinking they looked identical to the ones at the wellness center, right down to the wrappers.
The students, thinking she was about to scold them for eating sweets, quickly tried to hide them. "Ms. Bennett, we'll just have one, we promise!"
Since she was a teaching assistant for an undergraduate class, they all called her Ms. Bennett.
"That's not what I meant," Emma said with a laugh. "Where did you get them?"
"We bought them," one student said, quickly offering her one. "You should try it, they're amazing."


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